|SWTOR Fanfic - Adiira and her friends
||[Jun. 15th, 2012|07:41 am]
With many, many thanks to best-ever beta reader lanna_kitty, who kindly hand-held and read and gave feedback on a moment’s notice when I needed it.
This is Part Three of Masquerade. Parts One and Two are here:
Masquerade Part 1: Invitation to a Party
Masquerade Part 2: Naps and Preparations
Masquerade Part 3: Playing Dress-up
When the third loader rolled up to the ship’s ramp with its offering, Adiira looked over at Vette and narrowed her eyes.
“Is this everything?” The words were mild, but Vette could tell she was reaching the end of her patience.
“Everything, I swear!” She laid one hand on her heart and bowed in earnest promise… and one more loader made its appearance. Adiira scowled mightily, looking from Vette to the last droid, and then she started to laugh, as the loader held up a single small bag. Vette snatched the bag and motioned the droid away, grinning sheepishly.
“That really is the last thing,” she said, swinging the small bag behind her back as if that would make Adiira forget about the extra droid.
Adiira surveyed the cluttered lounge with a fearsome eye; her glare would have been more convincing if the corners of her mouth weren’t continually turning up.
“What is all this?” she asked between chuckles, her wave encompassing the stacked boxes which filled the holo area, piled high on the platform and stacked in the aisle.
“The costumes are here!” Jaesa cried as she exited the medbay. She fell on the boxes with predatory zest, checking shipping addresses and stacking rejected containers neatly to one side. “Ah HAH! There it is.” Her head came up and she looked at Vette and nodded significantly. Vette returned the glance and the two of them stalked their lord, faces alight with identical glee.
Malavai shot Adiira a pained glance as Vette secured the gilded crown on his head. She swept an encompassing hand down her own torso at the gold corset that cinched her slender waist and the sheer harem pants beneath it, and raised one eyebrow with an unsympathetic grin. If she had to confess truly, they looked splendid together. Vette and Jaesa had outdone themselves.
He was magnificent in black velvet and leather (and a little uncomfortable judging by the expression on his face.) She rather thought those snug leather pants might stay in his wardrobe after, if she could talk him into it. The high-collared velvet jerkin with the slashed sleeves was an old-fashioned style from Alderaan. It suited him, though; a cobalt silk shirt showed through the slashes, and the combination set off his pale good looks better than the Imperial uniform ever had. On bended knee, he bowed his head to Vette, who gave his ‘sapphire’-studded crown one last tiny adjustment before stepping back with a critical eye. She gestured for him to rise and turn slowly. Three sets of eyes watched him turn with sincere appreciation.
“You clean up good, Captain.” Vette nodded in satisfaction, and Jaesa applauded behind her. Armed with a ferocious vibro-blade on his belt, knives in his boots, and prop blasters on each hip, he looked every inch the Pirate King.
“Quite good, I think,” Adiira said with a chuckle.
Malavai winced at this evidence of his lord’s perfidy as she joined the chorus of enthusiastic female voices.
“You’re next.” Jaesa swooped in on Adiira and secured a drape around her neck before opening the last bag and pulling out a large makeup kit. She tugged Adiira over to sit on the lounge couch, plopped herself on a small stool in front of her, and started comparing foundation colors with a critical eye.
“Makeup? Why do I need makeup?” Adiira sputtered as Malavai, watching, grinned in turn.
“Makeup and a wig, Master.” Jaesa turned her lord’s chin with a firm hand and began the process of covering the Sith clan mark that surrounded one eye. When she finished, she swept the drape off with a dramatic flourish and pulled Adiira to her feet. In place of the Sith warrior stood a slave girl. Her hair was black, done up in a thick braid which fell to her waist, and adorned with fine gold chains. Gold eyes blinked nervously in a tanned face. She wore a gemmed collar (the matching leash had quickly vanished at her sincere snarl) and wide golden wrist cuffs. A tight, heavily brocaded bodice emphasized bosom and waist, ending at her hips in a flowering of soft sheer blue silk pantaloons. Delicate gold sandals completed the outfit.
“Don’t slave girls usually wear bare-midriff outfits?” Malavai asked Vette mildly, watching for Adiira’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. She sniffed, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, and the corners of his mouth curled up just a bit.
“Yeah…” Vette looked a little nervous, her eyes darting from her lord to the captain and back again.
Jaesa broke in to rescue her: “…but we thought that would go a little too far.”
Malavai caught Adiira’s eyes; his hand fell to the hilt of his blade and he raised an eyebrow and looked a question at her as he waggled the hilt slightly. Her lips quirked as she realized what he was about, and she nodded minutely.
He walked over and took Adiira’s hand in his. “I have my beautiful slave girl,” he said with a smoldering look just for her, “and my treasure droid,” he turned and waved at twovee, laden down with a heavy storage case rigged with electronics which would conceal their real weapons from a casual scan. His voice rose in a sudden roar that made both girls jump: “Now WHERE’S MY CREW!”
Startled, they laughed and scrambled to stand in front of him “Right here sir!” “Coming sir!”
He looked them up and down sternly. They’d kept to the general color scheme, black and gold and blue. Vette was snappy in a smuggler’s double-breasted jacket studded with armor patches. It was indigo, flattering her pale blue skintones, and ruffled gold lace spilled from the open collar; more lace edged her cuffs and fell almost to her knuckles. She wore skintight black pants and high cuffed boots like his, save that hers were blue-black. Jaesa had opted for gold to match her master, but hers was leather armor: a Marauder’s bracers and skirted cuirasse over a sleek black bodysuit, with low power training lightsabers to match. The only blues in her costume were in her hair, currently a fetching shade of electric blue, and the flamboyant makeup around her eyes and lips.
“Crew!” Malavai snapped, “are we prepared for the assault?” He very seldom came the Imperial Captain aboard her ship. It was impressive, and quite alluring, Adiira thought.
They were certainly ‘armed’ enough, she mused wryly. The three of them positively bristled with gaudy blasters, vibro-knives and swords. Vette even boasted a toy autocannon, replete with glowing energy readouts. Her own empty hands twitched at her sides where her lightsabers usually hung. Her costume didn’t really bare too much skin (she spared a brief thought of thanks for whichever of the two girls had vetoed a more scandalous outfit), but she felt truly naked at the prospect of leaving the ship without them on her person.
Her eyes danced as Vette stepped forward with a smirk and her best quasi-military: “Sir! Yes sir!” and Jaesa drew herself up and saluted.
Malavai stifled a snort and called up a map of the museum on the holocomm: “We’ll be breaching the hull here-” he pointed with the vibro-sword, and the four of them went over the plan one more time. Adiira leaned forward to study the layout, crossing her arms over her chest to keep from fidgeting at her non-existent belt.
Vette sidled over to Adiira as Jaesa and Malavai were deep in conversation over the best way to stage their “pirate raid” without actual terror, looting or pillaging. They’d reached the part about the smoke grenades before Vette leaned over and spoke to her.
“You okay with this, boss?” she asked, nodding at Adiira’s stance.
“Hmm? Oh, um, sure. Yes?” Adiira turned away from the map to face her oldest retainer (youngest sister, best friend.)
“Hey, I got to thinking about that costume, and it’s great, and you look great in it, but it’s really not your thing, right?”
Adiira smiled at Vette, who always saw more than she let on, and gave her a quick wry nod.
“So, I got you this.” Vette held out a narrow, palm-length black cylinder and thumbed the recessed button near one end. A shortened lightsaber blade hummed into being for an instant, and vanished as quickly. “Not a lot of juice, but you can keep it on you.” She reached forward and slid the smooth cylinder into Adiira’s cleavage - it just fit - the rounded end was even with the bodice and concealed from any but the most salacious view.
“Where’d you even find something like this?” Adiira looked from Vette to her well-armed cleavage and back again in amazement.
Vette laid a finger across her lips. “Girl’s gotta have some secrets. Knew it would come in handy one of these days.”
“Thank you.” Adiira sighed with relief and rolled her shoulders; just that tiny weapon and she could already feel her muscles unkinking.
Vette smiled at her happily. “That’s much better. Now you’re ready for my other good idea!”
Malavai looked up from his conversation with Jaesa to see his lord and her best friend in close consultation. Which wouldn’t have been worrying, except for the way they both smirked when they caught him watching them. No time to pursue it, though - he glanced at his chrono - the hired taxi would be by to collect them at any moment. He shut down the holodisplay and turned to double-check the weapon case. Vette was there before him, running a scanner over the closed case.
“We got it from Danal, it’s solid,” Adiira told them both.
“Yeah, but he’d never let you hear the end of it if we didn’t check it too.” Vette checked her readouts one last time and grinned at Adiira before putting the scanner away.
“Good enough,” Malavai nodded sharply. “My lord, ladies, time to go.” A wrap was found for Adiira’s shoulders, a few last minute articles were stowed away, and they were out the airlock and down the ramp.
Not before time: the taxi was already waiting when they reached the cab dock. He handed in Adiira and the girls before giving the direction to the droid driver and climbing in himself. Twovee piled into the driver’s compartment, and the black cab hummed into the traffic stream.
Seated next to Adiira on the backward facing bench, Malavai spared a moment’s thought to be grateful that the costume party was on Nar Shadaa. Their flamboyant group rated glances even here, but no more than that. And with what they had planned, well, in Kaas City the least they could expect would be arrests and detention.
He started in surprise as Adiira slid over towards him and leaned comfortably against his shoulder. She nestled close, and reached up to tug his head down so that she could whisper in his ear.
“Vette told me if you could get into character, I can too; I think you impressed her, Malavai. Would the pirate king be willing to cuddle his slave girl?”
His eyebrows went up in surprise, and then he put an arm around her waist, pulling her suddenly onto his lap and making her squeak. He leaned down and on a breath of a laugh whispered back: “You know it’s just command voice, right?”
“Whatever it is, is very effective,” she replied sotto voce, with a tiny wiggle for emphasis. She put her arms around him and rested her head in the crook of his neck.
“Minx,” Malavai said fondly, out loud in his pirate voice. He glanced over at Vette, apparently absorbed in watching the towers of the night city through the reflections of the cab’s interior, and deliberately planted a kiss on his lord’s dark hair, watching in amusement as the corners of the Twi’lek’s mouth slowly curved up in satisfaction